


Feathers, Slightly Ruffled

by bluetoast



Series: Birds of a Feather [25]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Deaf Dean Winchester, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-18 22:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another day in the life of Dean Coulter, who doesn't mind being deaf; doesn't mind that he was left off the '96 Olympic Team - but is very picky when it comes to music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feathers, Slightly Ruffled

The shot at making the 96 Olympic Games in Atlanta had been just that – a shot. Dean could clearly see that he scored in the top seven, but he was only seventeen, young for a male gymnast. His spot on the Olympic Team was given to a twenty three year old who came in ninth. He wasn't completely undaunted, he would just have to focus towards the 2000 Games in Sydney. He'd be twenty-one then, the perfect age for the team. It was sort of funny, most girls were reaching the end of their gymnastics career and his was just getting started. With Atlanta off the table, there was nothing to do but get ready for the Pan American Games in September. And not feel bitter or angry watching the Games on television.

Dean pulled shorts on over his leotard, glad to be done with practice for today. It was another hot and sultry Maryland summer and he could swear that the air conditioning stopped working in the gym sometime between his routine practice on the pommel horse and the vault. He yawned absently and stuffed his hand grips into his bag. He was looking forward to going home – Dad was supposed to be back from Florida today. He'd been down there for weeks, working on some horrific crash in the Everglades. From what Dean had seen on the news, and mom had stated, it was the ugliest crash he knew he'd been asked to investigate in years. 

Senior year of high school was also looming. Gallaudet University was already sending him pamphlets on classes, campus activities and sports. Dean wasn't even sure what he wanted to do with his life. He'd seen first hand the kind of discrimination he'd have to put up with, being deaf in any work place. Hell, he was dealing with that in the gym already. 

He looked up from his bag just in time to see tiny little Clarissa Mulligan, age twelve, miss grabbing the higher of the two asymmetric bars and crash to the ground. Dean stood frozen, watching two coaches race over to her. She was clutching her knee, her face full of pain and agony. He slowly felt himself moving forward, not knowing why, exactly. He couldn't tell how fast he moved to the bars, only that it seemed to be quicker than it should have been. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The older of the two coaches, Penny, he thought her name was, looked up at him, and her expression was one of surprise. “Dean...” She said something to Clarissa he couldn't read and he saw the girl nod her head. “Can you carry her off the mats and over to the side?”

“Yes.” Dean crouched down and had a pair of arms flung around his neck almost instantly and he could feel Clarissa's sobs against him. “It's going to be okay.” He said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone and, after slipping his arms around her, stood and he carried her over to where the coaches had indicated. 

The girl was shaking as he gently set her down, her face stained with tears. “Thank you.” 

“You're welcome.” He gave her a half smile as the coaches and one of the trainers joined them. 

“Thank you Dean.” Penny stated, and he was glad she remembered to look directly at him so he could read her lips. 

He nodded and headed back to where he had left his things, sitting down to tie his sneakers. He stuffed the last of his belongings into his bag, shouldered it, and headed for the door. As he reached the exit, he paused and turned around, watching the activity behind him. 

While he couldn't hear the groan of the bars and rings as they were tugged with each pull and release, he knew the feel of the straining springs, the almost imperceptible shift of the vault when his hands found it. He knew the shake and throb of the beam even though it was not a discipline of his regimen, it was merely an apparatus that he found himself walking from time to time. The smell of sweat and chalk was stronger to him than any other student or coach. 

In this world of gymnastics, he was still very much an outsider, knowing the sport in a way they never would. He may not know the roar of the crowd, the clash of music and the voices of others, but he was a part of this world, an observer on the inside; looking around.

*

Dean was able to sit on the speaker and set the needle onto the record at the same time. For a few moments, nothing – and then, then he could feel the world explode around him. It was a strong, bold thumping that, if he closed his eyes, he could see the familiar words of the story crawl at the beginning of Star Wars. He didn't need to hear the music, he could feel the tension, the strength, all of the emotions that John Williams put into this soundtrack. Williams, it was decided among he and his fellow students, was one of the best composers of all time. 

Freddy Mercury was also acknowledged to be among the best as well. 

Queen was one of the few classic rock groups he could 'listen' to and not have flashbacks about John. He could also enjoy The Who and Jefferson Airplane. But bands like Metallica and Black Sabbath, favorites of some of his classmates, made Dean sick to his stomach. 

It had been almost eight years (this November) since John had abandoned him in that ER. Each year, Dean tried to think about him less. He was rather ashamed of the way he didn't think about Sam. But then, Sam was John's golden child, so no harm would come to him. 

He had to wonder what kind of music Sammy listened to.


End file.
